


Our Little Talks

by misura



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Skyfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Perhaps, if you want people to show good manners, you shouldn't break into their homes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joanne_c](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_c/gifts).



A real spy, Q thought, probably would have noticed something was off the moment he'd stepped inside - possibly the moment he'd walked up the stairs, even.

Clearly, Q was not a real spy.

_To the surprise of ... no one?_

"I'm armed," he told the unknown person sitting in his favorite chair, behind his desk. He wondered if they'd changed the settings; he'd gotten them _just right_ only three weeks ago, after nearly a full month of tinkering; a pity if all that had now gone to waste because some idiot had decided to - well.

Not an idiot, maybe. He did have _some_ security, after all. Some state of the art, top of the line security. Anyone breaking in here without setting off an alarm knew what they were doing.

"What a coincidence," said an all-too familiar voice, at the same time the lights came on, revealing an all-too familiar face. "So am I."

Q felt his knees go weak, which was silly, really; a delayed reaction, clearly, serving no purpose whatsoever, except to make him look like an idiot in front of 007.

 

"I was bluffing," he said, fifteen minutes and one fortifying cup of Earl Grey later. ("I take it you're not old enough for anything stronger yet," Bond had said, which was hilarious, clearly. Q had decided to keep his dignity and refrained from replying.)

Bond arched an eyebrow at him. "About?"

"I don't really like guns."

"Of course you don't," Bond said. His tone was vaguely insulting. "Prefer knives, do you? Or a rocket launcher, perhaps? That sort of thing?"

Possibly, he should have said he did quite like guns, actually - he simply didn't care to use them himself.

On the other hand - "What are you doing here?" - they did say the best defense was a good offense. "Last thing I heard, you were somewhere in Russia."

"You heard correctly."

_Nice to see we coach our field agents in the art of not answering questions._ Q'd been trained, too, naturally, only _his_ training when it came to handling hostile questioning had been more along the lines of _scream a lot, tell them all kinds of nonsense and wait for rescue_.

Q sipped some more tea and kept quiet.

Bond smiled faintly. Condescendingly, perhaps. "Call it a force of habit," he said.

"That would imply you've done this before. I think I would have noticed if that were the case."

"Not with you," Bond said, which was a bit cryptic - except that Q rather reckoned he might know exactly whom Bond had been in the habit of seeking out in their private home.

_Huh._ "Mallory's security is _that_ good?"

"Don't be insulting," Bond said. "Go on, flatter yourself a little."

"Spots," Q said.

"Well, nobody's perfect."

"So what's next?" Q asked, putting his mug down.

"Ah," Bond said. "Bit of a problem there. You see, normally at this point, I'd simply be ordered out of the apartment. Dismissed. Told to take a hike."

Q picked up his mug again, even though it was empty. _He doesn't know that, of course._ "I could do that."

"No." Bond smiled. Amused, this time. "You really couldn't."

"Well. I imagine you could spend the night here." _Vividly. Right now._ Q hoped his mug helped to hide the fact that his face was slightly flushed. "I have a couch that is quite comfortable."

"A sleep-over? Shame. I don't believe I brought my pajamas with me."

_You sleep in pajamas?_ Q's imagination insisted on trying to come up with a picture. No cute animals or video game characters, most likely. "Or your teddy bear."

"I could make do. You seem cuddly enough."

_Spots,_ Q thought, but it had been a long time ago - less than a year. It wasn't professional, or healthy, in their line of work, to hold a grudge. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"No," Bond said. "If I were, we wouldn't be talking anymore at this point."

"No," Q said. "I rather imagine we wouldn't," which got him a look from Bond that was neither amused nor condescending, but possibly just the tiniest bit speculative.

"There may be some light flirting going on," Bond said.

"Meaningless." _Naturally._ No sense in feeling disappointed; he'd read the man's file, after all. Computer geniuses weren't really Bond's 'type'. _Inasfar as he's got one._

"Naturally," Bond agreed easily. "I'm sure you prefer sleeping with your laptop, anyway. Wouldn't want it to get jealous. After all, I've heard it can cause quite a bit of damage."

_Jerk._ "Actually, _I_ cause the damage. My laptop's simply my weapon of choice. The way you prefer a gun."

"And we're back to weapons."

"Shall we just leave it at: you use guns, I use a laptop, and we're both good at our jobs? Oh, and you're not here to have sex with me, so I don't see any reason why you can't just fuck off now."

"A bit rude," Bond said. "Don't you think?"

"Perhaps, if you want people to show good manners, you shouldn't break into their homes."

"Fair enough. So, to summarize, your offer is that I can either sleep with you or sleep on a bench in the park? Is that an accurate assessment of the situation?"

_Not even remotely._ "Yes," Q said. "That sounds about right."

"Not exactly a hard choice, is it?"

"I was serious about the couch. I have plenty of blankets."

Bond grimaced. "I was hoping for a bed."

_So was I._ Except, well, not really. Some things were best left in the realm of fantasy. "I'm not sleeping on my own couch just because you're too ... whatever it is you are that keeps you from going home to your own apartment." Force of habit, presumably.

"Ah. A simple miscommunication, then. Let me rephrase. I was hoping for a bed with you in it."

Q reached for his mug again. "This is going a bit beyond light flirting, don't you think?"

"I believe I may soon actively be trying to seduce you," Bond said. "Fair warning."

"Just for a bed?"

Bond considered for a moment. "At this point, I believe the bed may be somewhat optional."


End file.
